


When You Assume...

by BuffyAngel68



Category: Dead Zone, The Mentalist
Genre: Child Abuse, M/M, Violence, non-graphic sexual encounters -- m/m
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-07
Updated: 2012-11-08
Packaged: 2017-11-05 00:09:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuffyAngel68/pseuds/BuffyAngel68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick Jane thinks he has a solid handle on just about everything, but a quiet stranger with an amazing gift is about to rock his world...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

As she covertly studied the man who was, once again, sleeping deeply on the office sofa, the brunette felt a warm, wry smile blossom. He was such a study in contradictions and the differences never struck her the same way twice in a row. Half the time his mercurial nature frustrated her beyond belief, the other half it made her want to put him in footie pajamas, tuck him in and read him a story. A moment later the irony that his initials were P.J hit her hard and she had to move quickly in the other direction in order to avoid waking him with her snorts of laughter.

As she passed through headed for her own office, she caught sight of Grace seated in a conference room, deep in conversation with a handsome man she thought she recognized. Her stride slowed gradually to a halt as she studied the stranger carefully. Dark blond hair, strong facial features, a sweet smile, but with fatigue and a chronic edgy quality lurking just behind it...

Nothing immediately gelled, so she decided she needed to get closer and listen in. When she moved silently into the room, closed the door again and leaned back against it, the pair seated at the table spared her a brief glance, but returned to their intense discussion without directing any comments to her.

"... yes, I understand." Grace said with slightly exaggerated patience, as if she'd had to repeat herself more than a few times. "Trust me, he'll be thrilled to talk with you, but first... I need your real name. Otherwise..."

Sighing, but still maintaining his composure, the man pulled out his cell phone, dialed and handed the device to Grace, who took it warily. "Hello? You have... uh-huh. Agent Van Pelt, California Bureau of Investigation. Right... Yes, well, thank you, Sheriff. I appreciate your help. I will tell him that. Okay. You have a good day too."

As she handed the phone back, she grinned easily at the man across from her.

"What'd he say?" he asked, genuine curiosity lighting his face.

"That if you don't change your name soon he'll not only stop vouching for you, he's going to tell the next person who makes one of these calls that you're an incorrigible flasher and they should put you in a cell until he gets back in touch. Which he won't do for at least forty-eight hours."

To Lisbon's surprise, the man's response to the threat was to echo the smile he'd been offered.

"That sounds like Walt. He'd never do it. At least I hope not."

"So... you're actually John Smith."

"I actually am."

The connections she'd been looking for abruptly snapped into place in Lisbon's mind and she instantly straightened out of her casual position.

" *That* John Smith? Cleaves Mills, Maine?"

"That's me."

"Wowwww..." she exhaled quietly, claiming a chair and holding out a hand, which was stared at instead of grasped. After a moment, she realized why that was.

"So sorry. I forgot, no hand-shakes. Teresa Lisbon. I'm senior agent on the team. I take it you were requesting a meeting with Patrick Jane?"

"I was about to move into pleading and bribery."

"Not necessary. You can see him, though you might wish you hadn't by the time he's through with you. What you can apparently do in reality, he used to pretend to do, so..."

"... it made him a dedicated skeptic and debunker."

"Understatement of the year. Can I ask what it is you came here to tell him?"

"I'd explain if I could. What I see... sometimes it needs interpretation. Only the person it's meant for can really do that. I know it has something to do with a family, but I can't know if it's his, or just a family he's supposed to help me save. I have to talk to him... see his reactions, hear his thoughts. Then we'll know which direction to go in."

"Okay. If you'll wait here, I'll wake him up, let him know what's going on."

"He sleeps here?"

"Long story."

Moving quickly back to where her colleague was still slumbering peacefully, Lisbon crouched beside the sofa and appraised him for another long moment before softly speaking.

"Jane. Hey... you need to wake up."

"Hnnnhhh... what... Lisbon?"

"Yeah. Sorry to do this. I know you haven't had much sleep yet, but there's someone here to see you."

"Obama, I hope?" Jane asked muzzily as he pushed into sitting position.

"Not quite that important... but I know you'll wanna see this guy."

Jane read her expression carefully before responding.

"That good, hmmm?"

"Oh, yeah. Personally... I can't wait."

"I see. Well, if it has you that intrigued, neither can I."

He willingly rose and followed the dark-haired woman through the office to the conference room, but when he saw who was sitting across from Grace, he stopped in his tracks, his interested half smile vanishing between one second and the next. "Oh, no. No, no, no. Not a chance in hell..." he murmured, turning away to head back to his ersatz bed. Lisbon stayed on his heels.

"Jane, wait... stop. Jane..."

"Forget it. Send him back to whatever podunk, back-water, New England town it is he comes from. Hooterville, Mayberry..."

"Cleaves Mills."

"Whatever. I'm not wasting my time or my energy on any more frauds and charlatans..."

Finally, she caught up and gripped his arm, swinging him back around to face her.

"Hold on a second, okay? I take it you recognized him?"

"I wish I didn't. The captivating, conniving bastard has half the major media outlets on the East coast eating out of his hand, begging for five minutes or a spectacular quote. Of course, he claims attention is the last thing he wants, but you don't see his name leaving the headlines, do you?"

"He says he has to talk to you specifically. Says you're the one his... vision was meant for."

"Been there, done that, never again."

Lisbon hesitated, but eventually decided to push, just a little.

"When she had you alone... she told you something that shook you up, didn't she?"

Her friend refused to answer, but the abrupt tautness in his face and his determination not to look at her spoke volumes. "Okay, not discussing that, I guess. The point is, Smith isn't her. From all the reports I've read, he doesn't do it for money. I think he's sincere, Jane. The least you can do is listen. I've never seen you back down from a challenge before. Especially when the person pisses you off as much as he obviously has."

Jane shook his head and tightened his lips, but grudgingly agreed.

"Fine. Ten minutes."

"Thank you. You won't regret it."

"Yes I will, but the sooner I shoot him down, the sooner I get back to sleep, so let's get this over with."

\----------------------------

TBC....


	2. Chapter 2

As they entered the conference room, Lisbon winced at the bright smile Patrick offered the newcomer. She was certain she was the only one who recognized the utterly predatory intent behind the pleasant expression, and considered warning Smith what he was facing, but her companion spoke before she had a chance.

"John Smith. Never thought I'd actually get this chance."

"And that's not a good thing, apparently..."

"Your lowly, human instincts are working. I'm impressed..."

"Jane... don't start." Lisbon reprimanded mildly. "You agreed to ten minutes. Let's make them as sarcasm-free as possible, shall we?"

"Don't worry about it, agent Lisbon." Smith offered, training his intense gaze on his opponent. "Not like it's the first time. Nobody really believes 'till they see for themselves."

"It's what they don't see that infuriates me. I'm sure your charm is a very effective blindfold... keeps the great unwashed from looking too deep and discovering what a talented con-man you are"

"It always worked for you, so everybody who claims this gift must be doing the same thing."

"Something like that."

"So you're willing to risk lives just to be right... to keep feeling like you're a justified, virtuous crusader?"

Patrick's jaw abruptly tightened on both sides at once and Lisbon, almost unconsciously, began to reach out a hand so she could restrain him if it became necessary. Fortunately, he held himself physically in check.

"Don't expect me to fall for your act."

"I'm not asking you to believe, I'm asking you to cooperate. I need your help. That is what you do here, isn't it? Help people?"

"The ones who deserve it."

"I can't guarantee I do. I've done and thought about doing things... but the ones I saw in my vision? They're innocents and they'll die if the two of us can't work together."

Lisbon watched Jane's hands clench and unclench and multiple emotions flicker through his eyes and across his face, but eventually, he relented, powerfully surprising her.

"Fine." He grunted, stalking over to drop heavily into the chair directly opposite Smith. "Your hook is hand holding, right? Touch? I could really open your eyes on what that reveals about your psyche, but..."

"Jane." Lisbon warned lightly from behind him, making him grimace and causing his jaw to tighten again, just briefly. Johnny chose the momentary lull to add his own piece of sarcasm to the heady mix already filling the room.

"I don't have to hold your hand." He offered, matching Jane's feral grin and sliding to the front edge of his seat. "Punching you in the mouth would work just as well. I could push you out of that chair, slap you in the head... far as I'm concerned, it's all good..."

Lisbon and Grace moved at the same moment, shifting to get between the two men, the brunette speaking up to try and calm things down before Smith's words became reality.

"Okay, boys, enough. Mr. Smith, he really doesn't need any encouragement from you to start a fight. Jane, either cooperate or leave. Clear?"

Though she swore she heard him growl under his breath first, her friend and colleague did the unexpected once again and backed down, laying his hand palm up on the table. Despite the fact that she could now feel tension and banked anger radiating from the blonde as well, he also conceded the battle and reached out to lay his hand lightly on top of Jane's. Instantly, Smith's neck bowed, dropping his chin toward his chest, and full body shivers began to visibly course through him. Lisbon had an urge to interfere, not certain what might signal that he needed assistance, but she held back. A few moments later, when, blushing furiously, he finally lifted his gaze again, she was relieved she had.

"Mr. Smith?" Grace inquired tentatively.

"I'm fine. I, uh... let's just say I don't always tap into what I'm aiming for. Let's try that again..." he responded, shaking his head and refocusing. "Blue... maybe green... the image... it's fluctuating... water. The house is near water. Not the ocean... a big pond..."

Smith lapsed into silence, but began to flinch and softly cry out, as if he were being struck and trying to avoid the blows. When he spoke again, his voice had taken on a softer, almost feminine tone and was filled with genuine fear. "No... God, stop... please... no... no more... I can't... I won't! Let him be... God in heaven, let him be... let him be!"

With a heart-wrenching sob, Smith abruptly yanked his hand free of any contact with Jane's skin and turned sideways in the chair, pulling into himself and struggling to control his breathing. Grace stood and walked around the table to crouch at his side, talking quietly to him, but not touching, afraid of setting off another vision.

"Easy, Mr. Smith... it's okay. Relax... slow, deep breaths. Good. Not pretty, huh?"

"No..."

"Can you talk about it?"

"I... I didn't get a lot of clear pictures... it was... jump cuts... a lot of it was blurred. A woman was being beaten... there was a locked door... she kept looking at it like the most precious thing in the whole world was in there."

"Maybe her son. You kept saying 'let him be'. " Lisbon asked gently.

"It did sound as if she was protecting a child from whoever was attacking her." Jane concluded reluctantly. Smith shot him a quick, curious glance, but declined to push the other man any further, knowing nothing would be accomplished by starting up their argument again.

"That makes sense. It feels right." he acknowledged.

"Is that all? Did you get anything else?" Grace urged.

"Blood... spattered on a wall, droplets on the floor... it was everywhere. I think... there might've been a name... I can't be sure, though."

"If it's wrong it's wrong. You're human, you're allowed to make mistakes." Lisbon assured him, moving closer to where he sat. "Go ahead and tell us."

"Wayne." He admitted finally. "Maybe Wayne Steven... that part, it... the sound echoed and bounced. Made it harder to figure out."

Lisbon's eyebrows lifted toward her hairline and Grace sat back on her heels, shock and confusion dominating her expression. "What? Does that name mean something to you?"

"Yeah, well... could be Jane isn't the one you need to be talking to. Grace, would you find Mr. Smith a quiet place where he can unwind a little? Maybe get him a glass of water?"

"Sure. This way..."

As soon as Johnny and Grace had exited, Lisbon shut the door behind them and settled into a chair next to her friend.

"So?"

"He's good. Best I've ever seen."

"Not including you."

"I never include myself." He told her with a shaky laugh.

"You seriously think he has some past connection? The man's rarely ever been away from the East Coast and Rigsby..."

"All he came up with was a first and middle name. He could've made it up and gotten lucky. More likely, he did his research before coming out here..."

"Jane."

"I know. Fine, put the two of them together. Just don't make me watch."

"Wouldn't dream of it. You stay *here* and unwind. If I need you..."

"Don't."

"Hey, he believes you're destined to be his sidekick on this mission. After what I just saw... I'm thinking you should dig your tights and cape out of mothballs."

\-----------------------------

TBC........


	3. Chapter 3

"Rigsby."

"Yeah, boss. What's up?"

"Can you come to my office for a few minutes? There's somebody I'd like you to meet."

"Now? Soon as I get this report done, Cho an' I were headed to lunch..."

"Indulge me. I don't think it'll take long."

He hesitated, then sighed quietly and pushed away from his desk.

"Sure, I guess I could use a break. Not like paperwork's my favorite thing, anyway." He conceded, rising and following her through the maze of desks. Just before they entered the small space, she paused, gazing at him curiously. "What's that about?"

"Just a question... save me looking it up in your file. You do have a middle name, right?"

"Yeah."

"Steven?"

"If you knew, why'd you ask?"

"You'll see. C'mon in. Wayne Rigsby, this is John Smith. No jokes, no comments, okay? That really is his name." She said as she closed the door.

Johnny carefully studied the newcomer, then switched his gaze to Lisbon.

"Wayne?"

"Wayne Steven. I just confirmed it."

"This just gets more and more interesting..."

"Not the word I'd use." Lisbon murmured as she claimed the seat behind her desk. Johnny dropped into one of the two visitor's chairs, but Rigsby stayed on his feet, frowning in confusion.

"Obviously I'm out of a loop I should be in. Somebody wanna explain what's going on?"

"There's something I have to ask of you first. I know you trust me..."

"With my life, boss."

"Then let Mr. Smith do what he needs to, alright?"

"But..."

"Q and A comes later. Sit?"

Grudgingly, Rigsby lowered himself into the chair across from Johnny and shifted to face him. The blond initially reached out for the agent's hand, but changed his mind at the last minute and curled his fingers around the left side of Rigsby's face. Abruptly, Smith's head flew back and anguish flooded his expression, though he remained silent this time. For several minutes, he appeared to be fighting against what he was seeing, struggling to alter it or send it away, but eventually he stilled, only his eyes moving under the lids in what looked like REM sleep. A moment or two later, he gently pulled away and lowered his head, massaging his neck lightly. Wide-eyed, Rigsby stared at Johnny then looked to his boss, chuckled uncertainly and offered a half smile.

"Uh... studying to replace Jane in the fake psychic racket, is he?"

"No. I believe he could be the real thing."

"Right. He's not bad, boss, but I'm no rube sittin' in a tent at a carnival. I've seen the tapes of Jane doing his thing an' he was a lot better. At least he talked."

Johnny smirked and looked up.

"So do I. Problem is you may not like what I have to say. Matter of fact... I'm pretty sure you'll hate it."

"You'll be lucky if I even half believe it, but go ahead anyway."

Smith drew and released a deep breath and turned his gaze down once again.

"What I saw... it's about your family. Specifically, your parents. I don't know if you ever told anyone what happened..."

Rigsby stiffened suddenly and sat back in his chair. His furrowed brow and traces of anger on his face prompted Lisbon to interject calming words.

"Easy. Take it easy. That's why I chose to do this in private. I can even step out if you want me to. Just say the word."

"Nah... you stay. I'm outta here." he growled, pushing quickly up to his feet.

"Rigsby..."

"He's a lying bastard, boss. I don't have to listen to his crap."

"Rigsby." She repeated, much more firmly. His mouth tightened, but he went still. "Thank you. Now, sit back down."

"Boss..."

"Give me a few more minutes. Please?"

Rigsby looked at the floor and shook his head, but eventually he complied. "Alright. Now, do you want me to leave before he continues?"

"I'm sorry, but... yeah. Please."

"No problem." Lisbon soothed, rising to her feet. "If you feel like you can tell me later, you will. No killing our guest while I'm gone, okay?"

"I'll try really hard."

"Good. Try not to upset him too much more, Mr. Smith. He is a trained law enforcement officer, after all. Plus I'd guess he outweighs you by thirty pounds."

"Nah. He's in better shape than that. Fifteen, maybe." Smith flattered, only half jokingly. His opponent didn't relax much, but even the minute lessening of tension Johnny felt relieved his own stress somewhat. Lisbon grinned, recognizing the attempt for what it was, and stepped out, shutting the door. When he spoke up again, Smith began studying the office, knowing eye contact at that point would only make things worse.

"I don't blame you for never telling anyone, you know? Something like that... you shove it way down... keep it in some tiny little room inside where it can't hurt anymore or screw with your life."

"What the hell do you know about it?" Rigsby asked in dark, quiet tones, sitting forward menacingly. To his credit, Johnny didn't give an inch.

"Only what I saw. I know she tried to protect you... locked you in and buried the key deep in the garden, thinking he'd never go after it there. He hated getting his hands dirty... touching bugs, worms. In spite of what you may have always believed, it wasn't her fault the plan didn't work... and neither was what happened afterwards."

"You son of a..." Rigsby intoned ominously, but his body language belied his tone. Instead of standing or attacking, he collapsed back into the chair. Instead of growing redder with increased fury, his face paled.

"I agree with you. For bringing this up and forcing you to remember, I am an SOB, but I'll take on that title any day of the week if I can prevent another child from suffering the way you did."

"What? What are you saying? He's dead..."

"No. Not if my vision is accurate. If I'm right he's alive and he's doing it again... and there were others between then and now."

Now Rigsby shot to his feet again, shaking legs barely supporting him.

"Uh-uh... it's wrong, *you're* wrong."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I just am!"

"Maybe sometimes I misinterpret what I see, but it's never completely off-base. I can tell you're in real pain..."

"You know nothing! I was there, damn you! I saw! He's dead, you bastard... and I suggest you leave this building fast, before you end up the same way."

Johnny slowly stood, not wanting to provoke the other man any further, but unwilling to give up on this particular set of visions. Despite trying hard to temper his emotions and remain calm, some of his own frustration leaked out when he spoke.

"I get it, I do. You're pissed, you're hurt and you have every right to be... but this isn't just about you anymore, okay? Believe in my abilities or not, I really don't care ... but believe that I need your help. You're the only one who has the information that could prevent another murder."

"I said... get out."

"Right... fine. When the next kid is left an orphan, I'll send him here... let you explain that he's alone in the world 'cause *you* refused to do anything to stop it from happening." Johnny spat as he brushed past Rigsby and stalked out of the office. Moments later, the larger man sank back into his chair and covered his face with his hands, struggling to breathe normally.

\---------------------

TBC.....


	4. Chapter 4

"Johnny... hey, hold up, man. John!" 

The man waiting for Smith grabbed his arm as he stalked past, swinging him around slightly. "Damn, you're worked up. What happened in there?"

"What *happened*? The guy who used to play at being a psychic for money thinks I'm as big a fraud as he is and the one I *actually* came here for is so wrapped up in denial he won't talk to me at all! I did everything I could to get through... but they'd both like to blow my head off right about now."

His companion reached out and tugged his head around gently, persisting despite mild resistance.

"Hey, look at me... nah-ah, at me, Johnny. You really did all you possibly could?"

"Yeah. Can't help if they don't want it..."

"Then nothin's on you, here. No guilt, no responsibility. You gave 'em what we came here to give 'em. Now the ball's in their court and we get to go back to the hotel and sleep like babies."

"I'd rather go home... but we can't yet."

"You think they'll have a change of heart?"

"I get a feeling their boss will demand it, but it may take her a few hours to get the rest of them to buckle. Meanwhile, sleep sounds..."

Johnny was cut off by a hand gripping his bicep and forcefully swinging him around. His friend tried frantically to intervene before Johnny could be sucked into an unwanted vision, but quickly realized that his best effort would have been too late. Johnny collapsed to his knees, forcing the angry blond stranger to let go, and immediately clamped both hands to his head. His friend dropped down beside him, gripping his shoulders in support

"John? Talk to me, buddy. C'mon, try. Don't do this again, damn it, don't you get lost in there..."

Instead of responding, Johnny gradually forced one hand down and began to draw in the dirt with his index finger. When the simple design was complete the vision released him abruptly and he crumpled into the arms holding him up, breathing fast and shallow.

"Bruce..."

"I know. It's okay... slow it down, John. I know it hurts... ease up, breathe slower... yeah, that's it. What the hell were you thinkin' ?" he addressed to the blond, who had backed a few steps away, staring wide-eyed at the disturbed spot on the ground. "You can't just touch him like that! If he chooses to reach out, that's one thing, he can get himself ready, but... What? What's your problem, man?"

Before the man could gather enough saliva to speak, he was joined by both Lisbon and a slight Asian man, who moved in front of him and spoke softly.

"Jane? Patrick, what's wrong?"

"There..." Jane choked out, pointing at he ground. "He... lock him up, Cho. Do it now..."

Cho glanced behind him at the symbol Johnny had sketched and paled suddenly. Lisbon also took a brief look and her expression darkened.

"Take him inside, Cho." She ordered. "Get him a cup of tea and something to eat... stay with him."

"You got it, boss." Cho assented, turning Jane and guiding him back into the building. Lisbon strode forward and angrily wiped the drawing out of existence with one foot.

"Name?"

"Bruce Lewis."

"Take your friend inside, Mr. Lewis. If you can't, I'll handcuff him and drag him."

"Handcuffs?! He came here to help you! What the hell is so scary about a damn smiley face that you suddenly don't trust him?"

"Take him inside." Lisbon repeated darkly. Bruce stared at her, shook his head slowly and turned back to Johnny.

"John... you okay, now? We gotta get up."

"Don't know... it's bad this time..."

"I need you to try. Somethin' about that thing you drew... it's got everybody majorly tense an' they want you back in the building."

John nodded slightly, used to the routine by now, even though it was only a few weeks old. He had no clear memory of what he'd done while the vision had him ensnared, but he trusted Bruce to fill him in when things were calmer.

"Help me..."

"Always. Take your time... slow and steady. Good. Okay, let's try walking. One step... one more... I've got you, John. Lean against me all you want, okay? Hey," he shot bitterly at Lisbon. "you wanna open the door? I let go of him he'll be back on the ground in a flat second."

Her expression shifting from fury into a mixture of more passive anger and confusion, she did as Bruce had asked. Once they were all back inside, Bruce instantly spotted the couch and began heading that way, but Lisbon halted him.

"No. Jane's sort of claimed that as his spot and the way he feels right now... not a good idea."

"Yeah, well, John's my concern right now and I could care less what some dude with a girl's name thinks." Bruce ground out as he gently lowered Johnny to the sofa and crouched in front of him. "How's the pain, John?"

"7."

"Heading up or down? Talk, Johnny. You know damn well I don't go for none a'that downplaying shit."

Johnny sighed and rubbed his temple lightly before he decided to respond.

"Up."

Bruce gripped Johnny's hand for a moment then looked up at Lisbon.

"We need a doctor, fast."

"A doctor..."

"I'm only his physical therapist, I can't give him anything strong enough to head this off."

Lisbon hesitated, still not wanting to give in and move past her suspicions. Bruce saw it and pushed. "Look, I don't know what you think happened outside an' I don't care. If he doesn't get help soon he could end up in a coma again and I won't let that happen. Will you go get a doctor? Please?"

His level of desperation finally sank in for Lisbon and she half-turned, issuing the order curtly.

"Van Pelt, we need medical help on the double."

Grace made the call then jogged over to see what was wrong.

"Boss, what happened? Is he okay?"

"Find Cho and help him keep Jane out of the way for a while."

"Boss..."

"I don't know everything yet. When I do, the rest of you will get updated. For now..."

"Sit on Jane if I have to. I get it."

"Thanks."

Grace moved off and Lisbon refocused her attention on Smith and his protector. "Mr. Lewis..."

"Not now. Let the doctor get here. Then I'll answer all your questions."

"Your friend... he's really in trouble." Lisbon commented quietly. As she studied Johnny, who now lay on his side with his eyes tightly closed, her expression reflected that her doubts were slowly, reluctantly, dissolving.

"Yeah. More than anybody knows. He's closer to me than almost anyone else in his life... and I don't think he even tells me how bad it actually gets sometimes." Bruce replied, stroking his hand down Johnny's cheek. "Good idea to keep that little blonde jerk outta here, by the way. I'd like to kill him for causin' this..."

"Hey, don't mouth off when you don't have all the facts. Patrick Jane..."

Lisbon let the retort trail off when she heard the medics entering and stalked to her office, paging through a file folder while Bruce gave the men a fast, seriously abridged version of why Johnny needed pain meds immediately. She watched them nod, start an IV and inject something into the port. Once they had Smith on a gurney and began wheeling him toward the exit, Lisbon stepped out and in front of Bruce, keeping him from following.

"I don't give a damn who you are, lady, I'm goin' with him!"

"He's in excellent hands and I need the answers you promised to give me. I also have something to show you... something that should clear up part of why we reacted like we did. My office? Please?"

Bruce breathed out heavily, the sound very close to a sob, and clenched and relaxed his hands, unable to respond for several tense moments. Finally, he tore his gaze away from the spot where Johnny had vanished and looked down at the floor.

"Okay. But it better be fast."

"I'll do my best."

\---------------------------

TBC........


	5. Chapter 5

Lisbon guided an increasingly agitated Bruce into her office and waved at a chair.

"Please, sit."

"I don't have time for that. Just ask your questions so I can get outta here and go check on John."

The minute shiver that coursed through Lisbon at his use of his friend's name brought Bruce to a halt and caused a scowl to draw his eyebrows down.

"What the hell is up with you people? It's a name, just like anybody else's..."

Lisbon dropped her gaze for a moment, breathing deeply, then looked up again and held out a photo.

"This is what's *up*, Mister Lewis. Look familiar?"

Bruce stared at the full-color image of the same symbol John had produced in the dirt, but drawn in blood on a wall, and had to fight not to gag. Shocked, he tossed the picture back at the desk.

"Okay, so Johnny came up with the same thing outside. It must have somethin' to do with that idiot who grabbed him..."

"Idiot?" Lisbon responded almost angrily, her brows arching high.

"I told him, you don't do that to John... not lately. He has to be the one makin' the choices. People touch him when he's not ready it's like forcin' him into a vision. You saw the result. Can I go now? I need to know John's okay..."

"Oh, no. You're not done. Not by a long shot." A voice announced boldly from behind him. Bruce spun around, confronting the man who had put his best friend in the hospital with a growl. Lisbon had to race around the desk in order to get between them in time to prevent the newcomer from throwing a roundhouse and knocking Patrick Jane back out the door and flat on his rear end.

"Jane..."

"I looked in the holding cell and he wasn't there, Lisbon. Where is he? The conference room? Interrogation?"

"Oh for the love of.."

"Wherever you've got him locked up, I get first shot at the murdering bastard...."

"Jane! Either you shut up and go back the way you came or I swear I'll punch you myself!"

Slowly, Jane's expression darkened and Lisbon witnessed fury and pain there such as she never seen him display. When he spoke, the words were soft, but both she and Bruce could feel the powerful emotion that lay behind them.

"He took everything from me. Payback is my right."

"I don't believe he did it. If you'll listen..."

"His name." Jane intoned. "Don't tell me you haven't even thought about it. You're better than that. His damn *name*, Lisbon. It's practically a confession."

"His... oh my God."

Jane's point struck her swift and hard, stealing her breath for a few seconds. When she turned to Bruce, he could see she had mentally shifted away from him and away from Johnny.

"What? I don't understand..."

"That photo..." she explained hoarsely, struggling not to reach for her weapon. "... it's the signature of a serial killer. He calls himself Red John."

Bruce's jaw dropped open as the implications of what she was saying sank in.

"You... how could..."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Bruce stalked toward the door, pausing only because Patrick held his ground, refusing to let him exit. "Move... or you'll find out what kinda muscles bein' a physical therapist takes."

"Where is he?"

"This minute? Nowhere you'll ever find him. By tomorrow he'll be back on the East coast, where he's spent pretty much his whole damn life until he insisted he had to come here and try to help out you stupid, ungrateful SOB's. Now am I gonna have to break all ten a'your fingers one at a time... or are you gonna step off?"

Lisbon swiftly moved up behind Bruce and wrapped one hand very tightly around his left bicep.

"That's criminal threatening, Mr. Lewis. And of a police officer, at that. I could throw you in a cell and hold you however long it might take to get you arraigned."

"But you won't."

"Knowing your situation... you're right. I just want to be sure we understand each other. No matter how upset or angry you are, some things aren't acceptable."

"I get it."

"And I appreciate you getting it. Go see your friend." She acceded, releasing him. "One thing, though. Neither of you are leaving until we straighten this out. Clear?"

"Damn it..."

"Are we clear?"

Bruce drew and released a slow, deep breath to calm himself before responding.

"Yeah."

"Good. Jane, let him go."

"Lisbon..."

"Just for now. He's an honorable man who keeps his promises, aren't you Mr. Lewis?"

"Always have been."

"I knew that. Jane?"

At first Patrick stubbornly refused to move, but he relented when Lisbon glared fiercely at him. Both of them were silent until Bruce had left the building. Arms crossed over his chest, head bowed, he spoke quietly and drew a shaky smile out of his ersatz boss.

"I'm not a police officer."

"Yeah, well... he didn't know that."

\----------------------


	6. Chapter 6

THE HOSPITAL: TWO HOURS LATER

 

"Damn It, Johnny... you're usually back with me by now. I know you said it was bad this time, but... c'mon, man. You gotta wake up. God... this gift a'yours... just when I think we've seen the worst trouble it could possibly get us in, it finds a way to take it to another level. This is even beyond you nearly bein' burned as a witch. I don't see how we're gettin out a'this one without serious help, buddy. Like, divine intervention kinda help."

The hand he held so tightly finally twitched and tried to curl around his and Bruce felt his entire body start to relax for the first time since he'd entered the CBI offices. "Johnny?" he whispered, stroking his friend's brow slowly with his free hand.

"Mmmm. Hey..."

"Thank God. Took you a while..."

"Yeah... sorry. N-nasty one..."

"I know. Believe me, I know."

"Wha' happened th's time?"

"How much do you remember?"

Johnny frowned slightly.

"Uh... damn jackass grabbed me... then the vision hit. I saw blood... all over, everywhere... something finger-painted... on a wall, maybe? When it let me go, you took me inside... after that it's all gray... foggy. What's up, Bruce?" Johnny asked, his gaze roaming his companion's face, searching for a clue.

"Not now, okay? You need to rest. Doc wants you to stay the night, but I told him..."

"Bruce."

The other man sighed and dropped his chin to his chest.

"That... painting you saw? You drew the same thing in the dirt. Turns out some serial killer leaves it at all his crime scenes. Now jackass and his cronies... they think you're the guy."

"Terrific. Perfect ending to a hideous day." Johnny groaned, closing his eyes. A moment later, however, the sound of someone gently clearing their throat forced the attention of both weary men to the half-open door of the treatment cubicle. Bruce looked over and found someone he vaguely recognized leaning on the frame and studying him intently.

"You... you were there. You're one of the agents."

"Kimball Cho."

"Whatever. It's not nice to eavesdrop."

"I don't do it on purpose. People don't tend to notice me. I learn a lot of vital information just standing around... being invisible."

"Then you know everything he does. You can go, now."

"Wish I could. I'm officially on protection detail."

Bruce growled under his breath and struggled to keep his temper under control and not scream loud enough to wake every coma patient in the hospital.

"Johnny... never hurt anybody. I don't give a damn if you don't believe me *or* him, it's true."

"Not that kind of protection. Jane is enraged right now and he can be devious. My boss is afraid he'll attack your friend. I'm here to keep you safe, Mr. Smith. And by the way? I'm probably the only one on our team that *does* believe you, so trusting me and talking to me might be a really good idea."

Cho turned his back and proceeded to scan the hallway for potential trouble. Johnny watched him for a few moments then turned to his friend and shrugged faintly. Bruce reached out and eased Smith's eyes shut.

"Sleep."

\---------------------------

CBI:

"Rigsby. Wayne? Talk to me... please."

"I... I can't Grace. Not yet. Just... gimme some room, okay? I need to think... catch my breath, ya know?" he responded tightly, pacing around and around the tiny interrogation room. He knew she was worried, but he couldn't spare the focus or energy to soothe or reassure her. Too much emotion and too many confused thoughts were filling up his head and he had to get rid of it all somehow before it either dragged him down into despair or his anger exploded on someone who didn't deserve it. Grace, unknowingly, pushed the worse of the two buttons.

"I've never seen you like this. What the hell did he do to you?"

"Nothing! He's a liar and a con-man, just like Jane."

"Like he used to be."

Rigsby grunted.

"Where have you been the last year, Grace? He's only here to catch the guy that hurt his wife and kid. You actually think he'll stick around here one minute after the bastard is caught or killed? Not likely."

"How can you say that? He gets results. Maybe not the way we were taught, but he wants to do better. He tries."

"Wake up, will ya? Not only is he *not* changing, he's pulling Lisbon into his crap more and more. Then she stands up for him... even protects him, when it's her job and her life on the line!"

Now fearful for the man she'd become so close to over the last few months, Grace stood, moved in front of him to halt his frenzied movements and grabbed both his hands.

"Stop. Just stop. This isn't about Patrick, is it?"

"Grace, don't go there, I'm beggin' you..."

"Yeah, well you're already there. The very least a friend should be willing to do is stand with you."

Rigsby let his eyes slip closed and ran a hand over his face. Eventually, regret more than evident in his expression, he freed one hand and cupped it around her jaw.

"Boy, your folks knew what they were doin' when they named you." he offered quietly, "I'm so sorry, Grace. I just..."

"What did Smith say to you?"

"I can't. Nobody... if they found out, God knows what might happen..."

"Whatever it is, we'll work it out. Just tell me."

"He... he said my dad's alive... that he's still out there somewhere."

"I take it that isn't a good thing."

"No. Matter of fact, it's how I know Smith is a lyin' SOB. My dad can't still be around, Grace. I killed him with my own hands... two hours after he slaughtered my mom."

\----------------------------------

TBC........


	7. Chapter 7

"So? C'mon, don't just sit there like a lump with that disgusted look on your face. Give it to me."

Jane, elbows on his knees, eyes on the floor, responded darkly without bothering to look at Lisbon.

"Give you what?"

"The argument. You take the con, as usual, and I'll take the pro. Why can't Smith possibly be telling the truth about what he is?"

Jane smiled grimly, but only for a moment, and shook his head.

"If you're hoping to distract me... you'll have to do a lot better than that."

"Who said anything about distraction? I'm really interested to hear your thoughts. I'll go first if you'd prefer."

"Yeah... why don't you." Jane conceded wearily, rising and moving to the window.

"You know the back-story, right?"

"Not really. I knew it had to be a con, so I never saw a reason to bother. Something about a coma..."

"It's all real, that part anyway. I remember seeing the news reports when he woke up. He was in an awful car accident. Slick road, car ends up in the wrong lane... we both know that happens all the time. He did end up in a coma for six years. Brain damage. Everyone was thinking he was pretty much PVS..."

She paused, waited for Jane's slight nod indicating he understood the reference, then continued

.".. until the day he sat up in bed and started talking. Begging actually. The nurse who was caring for him... he told her she had to go home, that her daughter was about to die in a fire. He was right. He saved the little girl's life. When the doctors started doing tests and scans they discovered that his brain had built new pathways around the damaged area. They aren't sure, but they think one of them detoured through an area of the brain that science doesn't know anything about yet. The process stimulated... something... and supposedly gave him this ability. First point on the pro side: The car accident and the coma are indisputable fact. Not even the most dedicated, determined grifter would put him or herself through that. Your turn."

Engaged despite himself, Jane finally turned back to face Lisbon, leaned on the wall and crossed his arms over his chest.

"No challenge. Go on."

"Point two: He's never asked anyone for money."

"Not directly." Jane snorted "The man's smart *and* a media hound."

"More like they hound him. How many interviews has he done? That you know of."

"Three."

"When?"

Jane flushed, mad at himself for not seeing that question coming a mile away.

"Just after he came out of the coma."

"And since?"

"Point made, but I haven't exactly done a comprehensive search."

"Knowing you that's next on the list."

"Damn right. I stand by my assertion. One for you, one for me. Next point?"

"Point three: For at least a year after he was sent home from the hospital, he could only walk or stand for short periods of time... and only with a cane. He was using it today. Long plane trip out here from the East coast. Jet lag, the stress of sitting for so long... I'm not surprised, actually."

Jane abruptly straightened away from the wall, every muscle shaking with tension.

"No."

"Heck of an argument, there. Too much for me, I surrender." Lisbon shot back, sarcasm dripping from each word.

"He knew... he drew that face..."

"And if he's for real, if he *can* pick up on things outside the sphere of his available knowledge just by touching people... "

"Got you there. I touched him."

"Not gently, I assume."

Jane's confidence faltered again.

"No."

"Hmmm. Then if you follow the logic, any information he might get about you is more likely to be about violence than, say... kittens and unicorns."

"I don't want to hear any more..."

"Big surprise, but you need to. He isn't it, Jane... he's not the one. But maybe, if he is genuine and the two of you work together... he can help end this."

"No..."

"I'll tell you where he is, but you have to promise not to jump all over him, physically or verbally. Put the anger aside, just for a minute, and open up that incredible mind, Patrick. Try to look beyond your pain... and see his."

After a long, silent stand-off, Jane finally gave a grudging nod. "Thank you. C'mon, the hospital information is in the office."

"Hospital?"

\--------------------

THE HOSPITAL: THIRTY MINUTES LATER

When he spotted Jane slowly making his way down the hall, Cho tensed and prepared for a battle. The closer the other man got, however, the more his friend and colleague relaxed.

"Jane."

"It's alright. Lisbon fed me a few morsels of truth and common sense."

"Forced them down your throat, if that expression is anything to go by."

"Maybe..." Jane admitted with a rueful grin. "Don't worry. I'll handle myself like a consummate professional."

"Patrick Jane showing a completely new side of his personality? This I have to see." Cho mocked lightly. It didn't sting, so Jane responded with a wry chuckle.

"Okay, okay... Since when do you use such long sentences, by the way?"

"When the person I'm talking to is worth it. Let me go in first, ease the way?"

Jane nodded and backed up a step as Cho turned and quietly moved inside. "Mr. Smith... if you're up for a visitor, Patrick Jane would like to talk to you."

Bruce instantly jumped to his feet, bristling with anger.

"You have *got* to be kidding..."

"Bruce, relax."

"You want him in here?!"

Cho raised both hands and carefully stepped forward.

"I assure you, he's calmed down completely. I can see that he regrets what happened."

"Okay. I'll give it a shot."

"Damn it, John..."

"My choice, Bruce. Forgive and forget is the best policy."

"Honesty! Honesty is the best policy."

"I'll get it right next time. Just help me sit up on the edge of the bed..."

Cho watched until the pair seemed ready then moved back to the doorway and gestured. Jane moved into the room tentatively, warily observing Bruce, who was glaring at him as if the slightest aggressive move would result in a slow and painful end for the CBI consultant.

"Mr. Smith... that really is your name?"

"Blame my father's sense of humor."

"Accepted. I, uh... I came to apologize foe my behavior."

"Not that you think you need to."

Jane startled and his eyes opened a bit wider. "No vision necessary. You scream self-assurance and total commitment without ever saying a word. I think you get now that I'm not the one you've been hunting all this time. Doesn't mean you can even tolerate me otherwise, yet, but at least you don't want me shot at sunrise."

"Very good. Nice job of a cold read. You're right, Mr. Smith, I can't hate you. I *was* you, not so long ago. Going from mark to mark, playing on their sympathies, taking advantage of their grief and vulnerability... raking in the all mighty dollar. And having the time of your life."

"I don't care if you believe it or not, *Mister* Jane, but I never asked for this and I didn't want it. To tell you the truth," Johnny admitted wearily "it scares me to death sometimes, it's almost gotten me killed once or twice and I'm really sick of watching people scream, bleed and die in my head. If I could erase all this from history, go back and make it not happen, I'd do it in a second. I would've married my fiancee, we would've had our child *together* and I could've had a normal life. Unfortunately time and the universe don't let us change things that way."

Jane paled slightly and frowned in confusion.

"You have a child."

" My son... John Junior."

John opened his hand and waved. After a long moment of indecision, Patrick perched on the extreme edge of the mattress, facing the other man. Johnny breathed quietly and gave Jane a little time to adjust and relax before he continued. "I know Sarah did the right thing marrying somebody else while I was in the coma so J.J. would have a dad. Didn't stop the constant jealousy." Johnny chuckled ruefully. "Her husband's a great guy, too, much as I can't stand that fact sometimes. Be a hell of a lot easier if I could hate him. At least Sarah had the grace to name the kid after me... acknowledge that he's mine biologically."

"Do you... are you allowed any contact at all?"

"Oh yeah. As much as I want. It was slow and careful at first... I mean, he didn't know I existed. It got better, though. Now we're great buddies. Not that it hasn't been rough... especially lately. I've had to watch him start going through the same process that got me where I am. Now he's showing signs that he's inherited my so-called *gift*."

Jane produced a choked sound, battling to keep his emotions in check.

"Your gift is being able to touch your child... hear his voice, see him smile..."

"I know. Don't think for a minute that I ever forget that. J.J. needs me more right now than ever. This... this monster, the one who took your family... no matter what, I can't help you find him."

"I didn't ask." Jane shot back, his entire body stiffening.

"You will, once you believe... but I can't and I won't go there. See... my biggest problem is that I have a conscience. When I see these things I have to try and prevent or fix or change them. Sometimes, though... sometimes my sanity is at stake and I know that right from the beginning."

"Your sanity..."

"You only *try* to get into their heads, Mr. Jane. From what I've heard you're pretty good at it... but that's all you can do. Try. It's not like that for me. I literally have to touch their minds. It's like... swimming in sewage... breathing it, swallowing it. I don't just see the carnage and the darkness anymore. I feel the blood on my hands... smell the buildings and the bodies burning. The longer I do this the harder it is to make it all go away... after. Every time I agree to help authorities hunt down somebody like your Red John, I take the risk that it's the one I don't come back from... the one I can't make let go."

"How... how many times?"

"Three. Each one is a little worse... gets a little deeper inside me. From what Lisbon told me, Red John... I can't risk touching his thoughts. None of 'em have dragged me in all the way yet. He sounds like, maybe... I just can't, okay? My son deserves better than to grow up with a father who's a permanent resident of a loony bin. Especially if J.J's like me..."

Patrick studied Johnny intently for a long time before he spoke again.

"You're genuinely scared. Almost... terrified. You really think your son is in danger."

"He has my conscience and his step-dad's lessons on right and wrong and responsibility. I have no choice."

"His step-father is..."

"The man your Agent Van Pelt spoke to on the phone. He's the sheriff of Cleaves Mills."

"And he accepts... believes..."

"He has to. He's seen for himself at least a dozen times. Now I'm just waiting on you. It'll happen. May take a while, but it *will* happen."

"How can you be so sure?"

Johnny smiled mischievously, leaned in and whispered in Jane's ear only the most basic details of the vision that had so embarrassed him when he first touched the other man's hand. Jane blanched, stumbled to his feet and backed away as if he'd gotten too close to a venomous snake or a roaring heat source. "You're lying."

"Think what you want. Just for the record, my percentage for the visions being right... is near a hundred percent."

\-------------------------

TBC...........


	8. Chapter 8

As Jane fled the room and what he felt to be a particularly cruel bit of teasing, he stumbled into Cho, who braced him so neither one of them would fall.

"Patrick?"

"I'm fine. Just get me out of here, alright?"

"You're white as a sheet."

"I'm not surprised. The man is... confusing." he replied distractedly, looking intently back at the open door and the people he'd just left.

"Did you work everything out? Lisbon said you weren't allowed to come back if you hadn't."

"If that's her attitude, I'm not sure I want to."

"You're both acting like five year olds. Typical Wednesday. How about an answer to the question?"

"Mr. Smith and I... came to an understanding. Can we leave now? Please?"

Cho favored him with a long, skeptical look before replying.

"As soon as I confirm. Stay here."

Jane opened his mouth to protest, but Cho was already gone. He returned in few moments, holding out the car keys. This got his skepticism tossed right back at him. "I trust you." the smaller man responded causally. Jane accepted the offering and both turned to go. Halfway down the hall, Cho spoke once more and pulled a soft laugh from his friend, ensuring the car ride back to the office would not be as gloomy and silent as he feared 

"Just remember I'm armed. One deviation in course... and Wesley's monologue from the end of 'Princess Bride' will seem like a day at Disneyland."

"A mildly obscure threat reference. Nicely done. I appreciate the respect for my intelligence *and* your knowledge of worthy films."

"One of Mandy Patinkin's best."

"Wait just a minute, my friend. He was amazing in 'Bride', but it can't compare to  
' Yentl '."

"Not a chance." Cho countered. "Barbara and Amy Irving stole that film. They push Mandy right into the background."

"Excuse me, but nobody puts Mandy in a corner."

"No changing films in mid-stream..."

"Swayze has a wider repertoire. More to fight over." Patrick offered, his grin broadening as he embraced the challenge of rolling with the conversation wherever it decided to go.

"But only one popular song. Patinkin's done whole albums."

"And one of them was in Yiddish. If I have to have it translated before I can enjoy it, you won't be seeing it in *my* CD collection."

"You listen to opera in Russian."

"Ah-ah-ah. Opera's a whole other kettle of fish..."

"How?"

"Opera you can feel. The emotions come through, no matter what language you're hearing. Plus, if you *aren't* fluent, you need to learn the story beforehand, so it encourages the listener to investigate classic literature, mythology, ancient history..."

"Why I ever start you up..." Cho grumbled, but he exited into the parking lot with a smile.

"Ah, now the Rolling Stones repertoire is something I can get my teeth into..."

\------------------

CBI:

Grace sat beside Rigsby and clung to his hand. He hadn't spoken since his shocking revelation, despite entreaties and nudging. Glancing at the clock she grew even more worried.

"Wayne? You have to tell me more. Lisbon will be in here any minute. She's walked past the door three times already. I know that look and she won't let us stay in here much longer."

"I can't, don't you get that? Even if there was more to tell... it's not something I can afford to start dwelling on all the time. It'll consume me... burn me from the inside and I'll never survive."

"Wait... you're saying you don't remember?"

"Not much."

"Then talk about what *is* there. Flesh out the memory as much as you can."

"No! Damn it, you don't listen..."

She touched Rigsby's face softly, stroking over his cheeks and forehead, and this seemed to bring an instant measure of calm to him.

"It's already eating you up, Wayne. Please..."

"It... it got so quiet. Usually that meant he'd taken off to find more scotch or vodka. I figured it was safe to come out of my room, but he... he was sitting there at the table, waiting on me. He shot me this nasty, vicious smile... scared the crap outta me when he looked like that. I always ended up bruised or... " 

Rigsby shook his head slightly and tightened his hand around Grace's before continuing. "Anyway, he must've stood up at some point. I mean, he had to, right? 'Cause next thing I remember he's laid out on the floor... holdin' his head and starin' at me like he'd actually been under control all those other times, but now... No question, the bastard would've slaughtered me if I gave him an opening. I guess I grabbed something... I can see myself hitting him with it over and over. That's it. That's all I remember."

Grace slid off the chair to her knees and pulled him into a tight hug.

"God, Wayne... I'm so sorry."

"I'm not."

"It can't be. You're the gentlest man I've ever known. You couldn't do that..."

"Hey, we both know kids live what they learn." Rigsby murmured. "Besides, the house was tiny. Two bedrooms the size of closets... and the kitchen and everything else in one open space. If my mom'd been there I would've seen her. Didn't take much to figure what happened... what he did."

When they heard the door ease open a moment later, they slowly pulled apart and Grace rose to her feet.

"Boss."

"Sorry. I waited as long as I could..."

"No... no, I understand." Rigsby assured her, rising as well and turning to face Lisbon. 

"You two okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we're fine. Grace was just helping me... chill out. She's good at that."

"I can tell. Take a couple more minutes, but then I need you back out in the office, alright?"

"Sure. Thanks for givin' me so much time. I really appreciate it, boss."

"No problem."

Once Lisbon exited, leaving the door slightly ajar, the pair briefly embraced once more.

"I know what you're thinking, Grace. Never happen."

"She already knows a big part of the story. One of us will have to fill in the blanks eventually."

"Not if I can help it."

\--------------------

THE HOSPITAL PARKING LOT:

"No. You wanna do this, you drive."

"I've survived one car crash in my life already, Bruce. I don't like my odds for the next one."

"Meanin' you're still too weak to get behind the wheel. Great! Neither one of us is goin' anywhere."

"I thought you understood."

"What I understand... is that this was the worst episode I've seen you have in six months. I under*stand* that you took longer to come back to me which probably means your latest psychic seizure did more damage than the one before."

"You know that so far there's been zero evidence of..."

"I under*stand*..." Bruce interrupted, his voice strained with emotion and threatening to fail him. "that I love you and I will do whatever it takes to keep you from killin' yourself just to save people who don't even want your damn help."

Johnny gripped the other man's bicep and stared intently into his eyes.

"You've always said I was given this gift for a reason, Bruce... and you made me believe it. Okay, I suffer a little sometimes. I get tired, I hurt, I get 'psychic seizures' as you call them. Put that up against the pain of the people who need me... mine doesn't even rank. Agent Rigsby's father will kill more women if I can't stop him. I need that team to do it and I need you to take me back there so I can get started."

"Hell, John... "

"And hey... this Patrick Jane? Tell me you're not curious, huh? Tell me you don't wanna see what he's really capable of."

Bruce sighed.

"If I could smack you upside the head right now..."

"Yeah, yeah. Just get in the driver's seat already..."

\---------------------------------------------

TBC.................


	9. Chapter 9

"Grace... where's Rigsby?"

"Everything that happened today... it really got to him. I know it's your decision whether or not to let him go home..."

"Is he still in the interrogation room?"

"Yeah, last I knew. He thought maybe some time on his own would help him get his focus back."

"I'll go find out. Did he open up to you at all?"

Grace hesitated for a long moment, but she eventually nodded.

"I can't tell you, Boss. I swore I wouldn't."

"It's that bad?"

"Bad enough. I've never seen Wayne crazy like this. I wish I'd been in there when he met with that guy. I would've stopped it. Then I would've wrung Smith's neck..."

Lisbon sighed.

"Wonderful. Jane made peace with him, now two more people wanna kill him. I can't catch a break."

"If he shows up here again, don't let Wayne even catch sight of him. His control isn't exactly at normal Rigsby levels at the moment."

"Understood. He's lucky to have you, Grace, on the job and off. Remind him of that once in a while. Keeps a guy humble."

Grace smiled shyly as Lisbon walked away toward the interrogation rooms. Peering inside, she realized that Rigsby was, indeed, still there, and approached with caution. "Hey. I won't bother asking the usual questions."

"Hmmph. Yeah... guess I must look pretty rough around the edges."

"Just a little. If I needed to know what this was all about... if it affected the job or you could be in real trouble, I hope you'd trust me enough to tell me and let me do what I could to help."

"This... there's nothing anyone can do, Boss. I just have to... slog through it myself. I'll be fine."

"You've confided in Grace."

"Not like I had a choice." He replied, offering Teresa a weak grin. "Gracie, she... she's a champ at pulling teeth, ya know? She zeroes in on the poison an' just draws it right out. I barely felt it."

"True. You're my muscle, Cho's the psych-out king and Grace is the confidant. Not a better team in the CBI. You should go on home. Take tomorrow, too, if you feel like you need it."

"Boss..."

"You won't be any good around here if you can't concentrate, you know that as well as I do." She insisted gently. "It's okay. Somehow we'll manage without you for a while."

"You just don't want me here if that... if Smith makes another appearance." Rigsby countered, rising wearily to his feet.

"That too. Get going. Call in the morning if you decide not to come in, okay? Just so I can cover both our asses with a decent-excuse if I have to."

"I will." He promised, giving her a brief hug. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Lisbon watched as he left then followed a few steps behind. She waited while he gathered his things then shepherded from a distance, making sure he got into his car and out of the parking lot without incident. Once she was reassured on that count, she went in search of Jane, finding him, as usual, stretched out on the sofa. She sat on the edge and lightly shook his knee.

"Lisbon. Twice in one day. A habit I wish you wouldn't cultivate..."

"I need to know what Smith said to you. Will you sit up and talk to me, please?"

Grudgingly, Jane acceded to her semi-command, pulling his legs in and wrapping his arms around them as did.

"He said enough."

"Uh-huh. Could you be a little more vague?"

"He isn't Red John, that much I'm sure of. What he *is*... I'm still working on that. When he talked about what he thinks he sees there was genuine fear and anger in his eyes. Whatever he's been through left a lot of deep wounds, most of them still unhealed."

"Thinks he sees?"

"You know my opinion on the subject. It's clear Smith has suffered some very real trauma... but it'll take a lot more to convince me he's not some delusional crackpot with a talent for research. He said he has a son and that he's worried he's passed on his 'gift'."

"You interpreted that as concern about an inherited mental disorder."

"At the time, yes. The trouble is, he seems perfectly coherent and clear-headed. If it weren't for all the talk about visions and psychic falderal... As I told Cho, the man is confusing."

"And you don't like being confused. It makes you twitchy."

"I do not get twitchy. Can you please go now? It's been a stressful day. I need to rest."

"If you come to my office and finish the debrief, I'll make your favorite tea."

"I can get my own tea."

"I've got cookies."

Jane paused, considering the offer for several seconds.

"Go on."

"Rasberry Pims? I haven't even opened the box. You get the first one."

"Two."

"You drive a hard bargain. Two it is."

She rose and he lithely followed suit, utterly unaware that all the way to her office she was mentally crowing and calling him P.J.

\---------------------------

1 HOUR LATER: BRUCE AND JOHNNY'S HOTEL

"C'nt believe I... let you talk me into this. W're... wasting time..." Johnny complained anemically, his protest broken into shards by persistent yawns. Bruce reached around from his position behind his lover in the bathtub and grabbed a washcloth. Languidly, he squeezed warm water over Johnny's hair.

"I hear you, babe... I hear you."

"Gotta... get out there... find the kill'r..."

"We will, just as soon as I make sure you're relaxed... and rested... and fed 'till you can't feed any more."

"Bruce..."

"Will you hush? You can't save anybody if you won't take care a'yourself. Since you refuse to do that to my standards... I had to step in an' take over."

"Mmmm... does feel good... and you make the best pillow. Ooooh. Love when you w'sh m'hair..."

"I know. I love doin' it." Bruce told him as he finished and rinsed the shampoo out carefully and thoroughly, one hand over Johnny's eyes to shield them just in case.

"Uh-oh. S'dark. Am I s'pposed to guess who it is?" The blond giggled. Bruce responded with a quiet chuckle close to Johnny's ear.

"Guess I can check relaxed off the list. C'mon... let's get you outta the tub."

Once both were dry and dressed, Bruce half-carried his drowsy lover to the bed, tucked him in and slid in behind him.

"Bruce."

"What?"

"M'sorry."

"Stop it. You have to find the bastard. I know. You wouldn't be the man I love if you walked away from the fight."

"Love 'ou, too. Bruce?"

"Yeah?"

"W'nt pancakes f'r breakfast."

"Okay."

"An' bacon."

"You'll get it."

"Gallons a'coffee..."

"Johnny, for God's sake, go to sleep or you'll get oatmeal made with skim milk an' a glass of ice water."

"Raisins?"

"No raisins."

"Apple?"

"No apple."

There was a long pause before Johnny responded.

"G'night, Bruce."

"Night, love."

\-------------------------------------

TBC...................


	10. Chapter 10

“They don’t all hate you, John. There are people in there who haven’t even met you yet.”

 

“And if they did, they’d hate me, too? Nice, Bruce…”

 

“You’re just cranky ‘cause I tricked you into gettin’ a decent night’s sleep for once.”

 

“Probably.”

 

“Whoa. Can’t believe you actually admitted that.”

 

“Like you just admitted that my mood is your fault, so go in there and do what I told you.”

 

“Hold up, you don’t *tell* me anything…”

 

Johnny whipped his head around and glared at his best friend.

 

“I can get crankier. Last time you pushed it…”

 

Bruce instantly held his hands up in surrender.

 

“Okay, okay. I’m goin’. I was so good to you this mornin’… found you everything you wanted for breakfast… all I get is attitude stead’a gratitude. You wanna see cranky, wait ‘till we go to bed tonight! One of us is sleepin’ on the floor, that’s all I’ve got to say, an’ I can pretty much guarantee you it won’t be me!” Bruce grumbled as he opened the driver’s door and stepped down from their rented SUV. From the corner of his eye he caught Johnny sticking out his tongue at him, but judiciously chose to ignore it.

 

Once inside the CBI building, he headed straight for Lisbon’s office, and, finding her behind her desk, slipped inside and closed the door before he could be spotted by the ones who would happily tear him to shreds as a substitute for Johnny.

 

“Mr. Lewis I didn’t expect to see you again today.”

 

“Yeah, well… me either. John can’t let go of what he saw. He’s determined to go after this even if we have to do it without any help. Thing is, he needs somewhere to start. If you knew where Agent Rigsby grew up…”

 

“You’re kidding, right?”

 

“I wish. Johnny… when he sees something wrong or bad about to go down, if there’s the slimmest chance he could stop it he sinks his teeth in and just won’t back off.”

 

“Even if his own life is on the line?”

 

Bruce chuckled ruefully and shook his head.

 

“Even. Other people’s lives mean more to him than his does, Miss Lisbon. Don’t get me wrong, he’s not depressed or anything like that. Not really. He’s a genuine hero, that’s all. Pacifist and reluctant as all hell to take any credit… but genuine all the same.”

 

Lisbon studied him for a few moments then waved him into a chair. Once he’d lowered himself into the seat, she continued.

 

“What does ‘not really’ mean?”

 

“His ability… seems the more he uses it the stronger and bigger it gets. He has to strictly control who touches him now. If he doesn’t have time to steady himself and prepare…”

 

“… straight to the E.R.”

 

“Sometimes. It’s not so bad if the person’s givin’ off positive energy. Then I can help John manage the reaction without callin’ 911.”

 

“But Jane was scared and angry.”

 

“He had good reason, I guess. I only know what you showed me and what I heard when they talked at the hospital…”

 

“Keep it that way. It’s slowly consuming Jane’s life. If what you say about your friend’s bull dog tendencies is true, you need to do all you can to keep him away from the case.”

 

“Forewarned is forearmed. Thanks.”

 

“I’d never have forgiven myself if I hadn’t said something. Back to Rigsby. You’re sure you can’t redirect Mr. Smith? Get him to leave this one alone?”

 

“If you knew him you wouldn’t bother to ask.”

 

“Okay, then. You should head north. Start in a little town called Montvale.”

 

“Montvale. Got it. I should get going before John gets antsy and risks his ass comin’ in here.” Bruce told her, rising to his feet. Lisbon did the same and moved around him, easing the door open.

 

“No Grace. Coast is clear, but move fast.”

 

“Lightning’s a slowpoke next to me.”

 

He made it out to the SUV without a confrontation, only stopping when he saw someone leaning against the front of the vehicle.

 

“Mr. Jane?”

 

“Patrick.”

 

“Fine, Patrick. Can I help you?”

 

“Other way around. I’m coming with you.”

 

“You can’t just walk off the job…”

 

“I don’t actually work for the CBI. I’m a consultant and I make my own decisions about what I do and when.”

 

“We don’t even know if there’s anything to find. What makes you think we need you tagging along?”

 

“Oh, c’mon. I know card tricks, jokes, games… I’m fun on a road trip. Besides, I’ve spent time with Rigsby. I’m the best guide you could have, except for Grace.”

 

“She’d claw my eyes out as soon as look at me.”

 

“There you are, then. I’m not just the best choice… I’m the only one.”

 

Bruce stared at the ground, frowning and cursing mildly, for a long stretch of seconds before he responded.

 

“You ride in the back and if you talk too much I’m throwing you out without slowing down.”

 

\-----------------------------------

 

TBC…


	11. Chapter 11

When You Assume 11/?

\--------------------------------

90 MINUTES LATER: 22 MILES OUTSIDE OF MONTVALE

Despite himself, and contrary to how he’d feared the trip would turn out, Bruce found he was utterly fascinated by the conundrum occupying the back seat of the SUV. He’d almost missed more than one turn, in fact, because he was so caught up in the stories and odd facts spilling from Patrick Jane. Half an hour in, Johnny had insisted Bruce pull over so he could climb into the back as well, complaining that his neck was beginning to ache from twisting backwards out of the front passenger position.

Now, only a short distance from their destination, Bruce caught himself glancing up into the rear view for the hundredth time, watching the other two interact.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I swear, it’s the God’s honest truth.” Johnny affirmed, holding up one hand in the Boy Scout salute.

“You beat a Wheel of Fortune? Impossible. Can’t be done.”

Johnny simply shrugged and smiled lightly, as if to say the truth was what it was and nobody’s skepticism, not even Jane’s extreme brand, could change that. “I grew up in that world, I was shown secrets only the oldest, craftiest carnies are privy to and I am telling you there’s no way.”

“Sarah was right there the whole time. I’ll have her call you to confirm.”

“I am capable of using a phone, even these new overloaded, over-rated piles of technological confusion.”

“No. J.J.’s gonna have enough to deal with the next few years. I’m not dragging him into the firestorm that swirls around me sometimes.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I just… I have to protect him ‘till the time is right… until he’s ready for the whole story. Hearing bits and pieces from a hundred different sources… innuendo, lies, rumors…he won’t understand if it happens that way. I have to protect him.”

Jane grimaced faintly, nodded and turned to look out the window. “Damn. I touched a nerve. I have to figure out how not to do that.”

“No, it isn’t…” 

Jane drew and released a trembling breath then paused to compose the question that had just arisen in his mind. “At the hospital… you called Red John the man who took my family. I never told you or your friend…”

“Oh. Well, right after I recover from being forced into a vision, I don’t really remember much about what I saw. Not surprising I guess, considering how sick I get and how much pain I’m usually in. As I was talking to you, though, and we got into the story of my son… the images started to come back. I know you found your wife and daughter. I didn’t see what was done to them, I promise you that. Just the symbol on the wall… and then your expression. Frankly, I wish I could stop seeing that.”

“Was there… did you sense anything?” Patrick asked very softly. Johnny matched the volume level, knowing Bruce not only shouldn’t have to hear the response, but would be disturbed for days if he did.

“Rage. Yours and his. Other than that, no. The vision only lasted a few seconds. If I’d had more time…”

“I’m sorry. You said you can’t risk helping and I understand. I just had to… the question wouldn’t be refused.”

Johnny suppressed a smile at the apparently unconscious statement of belief in his ability.

“I get that.”

“We’re about there, guys. Prepare to stretch legs and backs and whatever else needs it.” Bruce announced from the front, watching both men shake themselves minutely, shunting aside the intense emotion the last few minutes of conversation had generated.

Pulling into a small village square, he parked in front of what appeared to be a hardware store and all three men eagerly exited the car, relieved to escape the weighty atmosphere. Bruce moved to Johnny’s side, placing one hand flat on the other man’s chest and one on his lower back. Smith slowly pushed back and then forward against the firm support, easing the kinks out of his muscles. Patrick watched for a moment, but found such connection and intimacy in the scene that he couldn’t bear it too long. Stepping up onto the sidewalk, he studied the line of small shops and, deciding to indulge a side of his personality that hadn’t had a serious workout in a few months, sauntered in the direction of a candy store with a brightly colored facade. When Bruce called to him, he reluctantly paused, fighting off the pout that was suddenly threatening to make an appearance.

“Hey, man. Lunch first, okay?”

“I should warn you that you thwart my inner child at your own risk.”

“Yeah, well, mine can smack down yours any day and twice on Sunday. C’mon…” he urged, moving the other direction down the narrow strip of cement. Johnny strolled beside him, chuckling quietly.

“My inner child can beat up your inner child. That’d make a great bumper sticker. No, a T-shirt! How totally cool would that be…”

“Don’t you start, damn it, I got enough on my hands baby-sittin’ him!”

\---------------------------

90 MINUTES LATER:

After stowing Patrick’s two huge bags of treats in a shady spot in the back of the SUV, Johnny rejoined the other two on the sidewalk and they slowly moved on past the candy shop, all searching for anything that looked like an official building potentially housing the records archive they needed.

“There. That’s a rural town hall if I ever saw one.” Patrick announced after a few minutes. Bruce gazed where he was pointing and nodded.

“Yeah. Looks about right. Let’s go.” He said, leading them easily across a street nearly devoid of traffic. Before they could enter, however, Johnny held up a hand, asking the others to wait. Fingers trembling, as they always did now, he cautiously laid his palm on the door frame. His chin dropped, and he stilled for a long stretch of seconds, but he didn’t show signs of distress and whatever he was seeing released him very quickly. “What is it, John?”

“Bar fight. Better than a lot of westerns I’ve seen.”

“Bar fight?”

“Yeah, somewhere around 1890 or 95, this place was a saloon. A freed slave walked in and the whole place erupted over whether to drag him out and hang him or buy him a whiskey for having the courage just to push through the doors.” Johnny explained, laughing. Patrick smirked, turned away and opened the heavy door, stepping inside. He immediately targeted the young woman behind the desk a few feet away, offering her his most charming smile as he approached. Johnny and Bruce entered as well, but, realizing Jane had just ‘switched on’, they hung back to watch.

“Hello, my name is Patrick Ulster. I’m an author and I’m doing research for a book on small town mysteries in California. I’d heard there were one or two up here that’d be perfect.”

“Wow… Ummm, okay. I’ll, uh… do anything I can to help.” She giggled, unable to look anywhere but into his eyes. “What, uh… what is it you need?”

“Knowing where your records archive is would be a great first step.”

“Oh, that’s easy! Most everything back to 1960 is on computer now, which is right back there. If you want anything before that or you need more detail, just speak right up and I’ll show you the microfiche room, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you so much…”

“Ashlynn. My name’s Ashlynn.”

“A beautiful name.” he pronounced grandly, kissing her hand. While she fought off a fainting spell, the three men moved past her headed for the computer station.

“You’ve got to be kidding. That actually works?” Johnny questioned, though he was grinning as well. Patrick smirked.

“On shy sixteen year old girls who’ve never been told they’re beautiful or treated like it? Every time.”

“And how the hell did you know?” Bruce continued.

“It used to be my business and it doesn’t pay to lose your touch with things like that.”

\------------------------------------------

TBC………..


	12. Chapter 12

When You Assume 12/?

\------------------------------

“I don’t see a search function. Where do we start?” Johnny asked quietly, leaning slightly over Bruce’s shoulder as he sat in the only available chair.

“Mmm. Good question.” Patrick replied. “I don’t think he can be older than thirty-five or so. Mid to late 70’s birth records would be a good jumping off point.”

Bruce began slowly scrolling through the many pages while the other two studied the screen intently to be sure they caught anything he might gloss over.

“There. Hold it right there. Myer... The last name isn’t right, but it’s the only Wayne Steven I’ve seen so far.” Patrick announced

Johnny nodded.

“That feels right. Whatever happened to him and his parents, I’m sure children’s services, or what passed for it then, changed his name. Can’t let a kid grow up with that following him around.”

Bruce clicked and pulled up the record full screen.

“Born March 18th, 1976 to Isabelle and Robert Myer. Did you see him as a kid in that vision at all, John? If we knew how old he was when it happened…”

Hearing the front door ease open, all three men gazed up to see two roughly dressed men enter the building. Johnny paled slightly and gripped his lover’s shoulder. “I know, I don’t like it either, babe. Just stay cool, yeah? Looks don’t necessarily mean anything. They might not be…”

“Staring right at us? Sorry to disappoint you, but they are.” Patrick interrupted, tension in his voice. “There’s scrap paper just to your left. Write down the address as quickly as you can. I’ll go provide the distraction.”

“Not a chance!” Johnny hissed, glaring fiercely at the other man. As usual, Patrick grinned and took absolutely zero notice.

“We don’t have time to argue. Get that address and try and find a way out the rear of the building. Go now!” he demanded under his breath, already sauntering back towards the front of the room. Johnny thought seriously about decking him and dragging him along, but he knew there really might not be a moment to spare. A moment later, Bruce pulled him away from dark thoughts of knocking Patrick senseless.

“I got it in my pocket. Let’s get the hell outta here, babe.”

“We can’t just leave him…”

“He gave us a shot, John, we can’t ignore it.”

“Okay, okay, but I get to knock his block off when we find each other again.”

Bruce cleared the screen and rose and the two swiftly made their escape. At the front, Patrick addressed the assumed threat with a bright smile, while also squeezing the young clerk’s shoulder, hoping she would understand the silent message to follow his lead.

“Afternoon gentlemen. I’m the new supervisor. Can I help you find what you’re looking for?”

The taller of the two men grinned and took a single step forward, crossing his arms and looking Patrick up and down.

“You can tell me where to find the guys that were on that computer back there.”

“I’m sorry…”

“No you’re not, but I can make that happen real easy.” The man broke in, still smiling. “I want names. I wanna know where they went.”

Patrick turned briefly then faced the threat again with a carefully schooled expression of surprise.

“Well… I’m afraid I don’t know. They must have finished their internet research and headed to the microfiche room.”

His inquisitor took another step and Patrick, knowing he needed to appear cowed in order to sell the performance, moved back the same distance and allowed slight concern to creep into his face

“What research?”

“The history of witchcraft and the occult in the early days of California.” Patrick blithely ad-libbed. “They’d apparently heard something regarding this particular area. Truthfully, I don’t think they’ll find much. This seems like such a quiet town. Almost worthy of being called sleepy or one-horse.”

“You’d be surprised.” The thug assured him in a low, warning tone. “Names.”

“They never gave me any. It’s not a requirement, you know.”

“The system have a camera?”

“No. It isn’t exactly new, nor is the software. It won’t support recent technology.”

The man looked up and around but saw no security cameras either. Grunting softly, he turned his attention to the clerk. Patrick had an immediate, visceral urge to get between them, to shield the pretty teenager, but he held back, all too aware that it wouldn’t be expected of the kind of timid, bookish character he was working to project.

“You like your new boss, sweetheart?”

The young woman blanched, but, remembering Patrick’s demeanor when he first entered, she was able to produce a genuine smile.

“I do. He’s really kind… and smart. He knows everything about state history.”

Again, the man snorted under his breath. For a moment, Patrick and Ashlynn weren’t at all sure what he’d do, but after a minute or two of ominous stillness, he gestured to his companion and both exited the building. Patrick maintained the façade a bit longer, just to be sure, but eventually he released an audible sigh and relaxed. He looked over just in time to prevent Ashlynn from sliding out of her chair.

“Easy… easy does it. You’re alright now.”

“No… no, you don’t understand, I see them in town sometimes. Everybody gets so quiet when they’re around. We’re all scared, even the police!”

“Trust me, it’s fine. You did beautifully. They believed every word.”

Shifting her eyes away and grinning shyly at the desk, Ashlynn responded in a mildly embarrassed mumble.

“Maybe ‘cause it wasn’t all a lie…”

“The sentiment is much appreciated. I have to go find my friends now. You take care.”

“Oh, I will.”

“I think the best thing would be to close down for the day… go home to your parents and a hot cup of tea. Tea always soothes my spirit.”

“I don’t have any. Parents, I mean. Working here *and* nights at a local restaurant lets me afford a little place of my own while I finish high school. A cup of tea sounds really good, though.”

Patrick frowned, suddenly feeling the need to sit and draw her entire story from her, but he knew staying would only put her in further danger. Mentally grinding his teeth, he vowed to return, take her to a safe place and encourage her to tell him everything.

“A girl after my own heart. Remember, straight home, yes? Soon as possible.”

“No problem.”

“Good. Nice to meet you, Ashlynn.”

“You too.”

Turning, Patrick headed to the back and discovered the same escape route he assumed the other two had taken. He found them still inside, however, staring out at an alley through a small glass pane in the rear door. He made his footsteps louder so as not to startle them, but Bruce still swung around, glared and hissed a question.

“ *Where* have you been? I was goin’ crazy wonderin’ what those guys might be doin’ to you and that girl!”

“I did what I do best. Why aren’t you both in the car by now?’

“There was another guy out back. He walked off a minute ago, but we couldn’t be sure if he was really gone yet.” Johnny said quietly.

“He is. Ashlynn and I convinced them there was nothing and nobody to find.”

The others breathed out heavily and straightened up.

“Then let’s get the hell out of here, shall we?” Johnny added. “You and I need a quiet, isolated place to have a very serious talk…”

\---------------------------------------------

TBC…………


End file.
